


when the safety comes off

by storiesfortravellers



Category: Leverage
Genre: Banter, Eliot feels, Gen, Gen or Slash, Hardison's POV, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 19:58:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7654639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesfortravellers/pseuds/storiesfortravellers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For comment-fic for the prompt:<br/>Eliot, when the safety comes off the gun</p>
            </blockquote>





	when the safety comes off

Eliot, despite his grumpy temperament, actually had excellent control. 

Of course, people who just met Eliot would sometimes comment that his body was a lethal weapon.

Hardison knew that that wasn't it. It was more like Eliot's focus, his _focused anger,_ was the gun, and his body, all that perfectly conditioned muscle, all that coordination and speed and precision, was one giant safety that kept the gun from destroying everything in its path.

Not many people understood that about Eliot. But Hardison did, and he always did his best to make sure that the safety would never come off the gun, that things would never get ugly enough for Eliot to need to lose control.

Not because Hardison was worried about whom Eliot would hurt; even in a wild rage, it wouldn't be innocent people. Hardison knew that about him. 

But he also knew that Eliot, if he ever took the safety off, would be afraid of himself. Of his own power.

Again.

That's what Hardison would never let that happen. He would do anything to make sure Eliot never again doubted whether he was a good man. 

Sometimes Hardison would watch Eliot work out, going through drills, training his muscle memory, his endurance and strength, to respond to any threat, practicing so that in the moment he would be calm, he would win without killing or letting anyone he didn't want to get hurt. He'd repeat the drills, again and again, until he felt satisfied that his body would be ready for the day's hurt. Satisfied that his control was perfectly - not almost, but perfectly - intact.

Sometimes Hardison would tease him after: "Do you just solve all your problems by kicking things?"

Eliot would scowl. "About to solve one of my problems by kicking him," he would grumble, then head toward the showers. 

Hardison would smile then. As long as Eliot could joke back, the safety was definitely still on.


End file.
